Just a Crayon
by Drop Topping
Summary: THIS FANFICTION IS DROPPED AND WILL NOT BE FINISHED, Sorry! -K
1. Chapter 1,  New Meat

**Author's Note: **Hey Guys! I'm back! _*confetti!*_ Sorry for the lack of fanfics these few months, but I'll try and write more! So here's my 2nd official big project. Sorry for the suckish summary! It's basically when Cammie was little, and something happens... and so on... I'm making this super short! Maybe about 3 or 4 chapters, it's set when she was in Kindergarten, a regular schooled class... and she meets a special boy _*wink wink_*; read at your own risk! Sorry if I write really small chapters! It's just I really don't wanna stick and drag to one topic the whole story, so I try to move on whenever I get the chance! I wrote this in 1st person (Which is WEIRD, since she's like 5 years old!) and I made it sound like she's really mature and sophisticated, but her thoughts are definitely of a kid, So here's "Just a Crayon!" Enjoy!

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So this new kid is basically thrown at me like a rubber dodge ball. Everyone was seated down in our seats doing our morning ABC's, when the principal, Mrs. Reltner, walked in, with a kid in front of her. Oh, how much I despise her. Mrs. Reltner was in her late 50's. She was about 4 foot 11, pale skin with dark, red, lipstick. She always had her hair up in a bun, and a skirt that was always too short for a woman her age. Her voice was always sour, even if she tried to be nice (which she isn't!) and say things like "sweetie" or "honey" that sounds like she meant to say "loser" or "butt-face." But one thing for sure, there was DEFINITELY, something suspicious about that woman.

Mrs. Weiber (wee-ber), our HEAVENLY teacher is at the front table, as the class chants the letter O (which is my absolutely FAVORITE letter!), when Mrs. Reltner barged in.

There's this strange kid, about our age, in FRONT of her. Usually, whenever we get new meat, they would always be hiding behind Mrs. Reltner. But this boy? He was standing right in front of her, his shoulders broad, his face idle, and his hair combed. He was probably one of the most gorgeous boys I have ever laid my eyes on. His eyes were pitch green, he has this brown, carameled hair brushed over his eyes slightly, and there was just this simple look on this face that made my stomach church.

"Well good morning Mrs. Reltner!" Mrs. Weiber chimed, "and who do we have here?" She kneels next to the boy and slightly says hello.

He sticks his hand out suddenly and Mrs. Wieber awkwardly shakes it.

Oh. My. Goodness! A 5 year old boy shaking a 30 year old woman's hand! How strange! But sitting there, watching Mrs. Wieber shake his firm hand, I wish I was there in her place, with his hand, shaking MINE, not hers.

Mrs. Wieber has this sunshine smile on her face, her eyes shimmering and her hair slightly bouncing. She was one of the best woman alive (next to my mother of course!) She always kissed our boo-boo's, and always let us color whenever we wished. She was like our second mom! Mrs. Wieber had bright, blond hair, that curls up to her ears awkwardly. She wore pale lipstick and long turtle-necks and high, high, heels.

My mouth was gaping a little and I didn't realize I was staring at the boy, until he looked at me. At _me! _He didn't look scared, didn't look happy, didn't look mad, didn't look like he had any emotions at all! He was like some kind of robot! He just kept, staring at me! I'm hypnotized by his remarkable blue eyes. Now the whole class is looking at what he's looking at, **me**.

From the back of the room I could hear somebody chant the K-I-S-S-I-N-G song, but I didn't care. He was just so darn gorgeous.

Mrs. Wieber turned toward his gaze too, and she gave me this sweet knowing smile. Finally, she cleared her throat and announced to the room,

"Class? I would like you guys to meet our newest addition, Zachary Goode,"


	2. Chapter 2, Just another Stupid 5 Yr Old

**Author's Note**: I had a huge writer's block for this chapter. I didn't know where to begin! I wrote and re-wrote this chapter so many times! I decided to make this chapter like a mini story that comes within the story, and I should've put this chapter first (but I didn't!) and it's a MINI Story people! I will get back on topic with the whole new kid thing in Chapter three! But here's Chapter Two(ish)! Enjoy!

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Mommy always told me to keep to myself. I didn't know why, but I always listened to her from day one. Everyday, after school, she would take me to a restaurant down-town, and we would sneak into the basement, where the owner's son (who's around his 30's) would teach me Karate. Every morning, when I would wake up, I would sit down with Daddy and he would teach me French. Every Saturday and Sunday, my parents would be gone and my Aunt Abby would come over and she would teach me everything! From dancing, to reading and writing, and math, and swimming, and climbing trees, and piercing a piece of wood with a noodle, and how to drop-kick and surprise attack a person, from everything you can think of ever since I was 3! For the past summer vacations? We've been to Russia, England, and Brazil.

I remembered always asking them why I'm the only 5 year old that learns these kinda things, their reply would always be, "It's always better to be ahead, than the be the one left behind,"

The weird thing about all these lessons? Is that I'm not allowed to tell anyone about them.

So when my teacher called on me to read the first sentence in the book, I would read it aloud in my head, smoothly, "_The cat is red_" But in reality, I would fake my reading abilities, and say, "Da K-kit is r - r - r-" and I would stop for "help."

"Spell it out Cammie, read it as best as you can," Mrs. Wieber would reply.

Or like that other time when Donald Hopkins and his friends were chasing me around with his booger, all I could do was: run and scream. What I wanted to do was dropkick him and twist his arm until it made that cool cracking noise aunt Abby demonstrated for me, but I couldn't, and I didn't.

Or like that other time in math where Mrs. Wieber was called out to talk to some strange man. They said words like "relocate" or "oblivious," and I was suppose to act like all the other stupid 5 year olds in our class and stare at them like they were speaking another language, but I knew what all those words meant. And I knew for sure Mrs. Wieber didn't enjoy these little visits from the man, she always looked worried and scared. She didn't showed her emotions when he would arrive though, she would say, "Hello there!" With a bright smile, and add, "How may I help you today?" But if you look closely enough, the corner of her eyes were twitching just slightly and she often shifts her body when she get nervous.

I usually sit at lunch by myself, and sit on the swings at recess by myself, and did pretty much everything: by myself. You'd probably think I hated it, but you'd be wrong. I loved it, I love every single second of it. I love being alone, and dress however I wish without people criticizing my clothes. I guess, sometimes it gets lonely, but I get used to it, and I like it, even if it's not normal for me to like the feeling of being alone.

I mean, I'd rather be by myself than hang with Maracelle Langsdorf and her crew. Her little posse would follow her EVERYWHERE! Oh lord, they were EVIL. Maracelle would pick on me whenever she gets the chance to. She would twirl my brown hair in her fingers and look at it with disgust. Her friends would laugh at me, because of course, I could never compete with Maracelle, when it comes to looks. She had this blond curly hair that sits perfectly on her head. She had this weird mutated, perfect skin that looks like a baby's bottom. She has the "cutest" clothes and she sometimes was allowed to wear MAKE-UP!

Her father owned the Western Bank, so she was just about the most spoiled brat in the world!

She thought she was "so cool," that sometimes I was tempted to shove myself at her and show her all the amazing things I could do, that she couldn't. But of course I couldn't, and of course I didn't.

But just put it for short, I was just another Stupid Five Year Old.


	3. Chapter 3, My Favorite Letter is O

**Author's Note**: yo, Yo, YO! I'm all fired up today! So sorry for the late updates, I've been have piles of homework! I've managed to written the third chapter, enjoy!

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Have I ever told you how much I love Mrs. Wieber? She's just about the most amazing teacher in the whole wide world. Out of all the spots she could have put Zach, she chose the one next to mine. I'm practically hyperventilating inside! His chair is awfully close to mine, the presence of his body next to me, I could hear his slow, steady breathing. He got his chin resting on his hands, and his face never changing. He just looks at his desk all day. Maracelle went completely starstruck. She kept eyeing him the whole day and she volunteered whenever she got the chance to show him around.

I'm too nervous to say hello, so the first half of the day was just awkward silence. Mrs. Wieber made each of us stand up (one at a time) and introduce ourselves to him. We were supposed to say our names and say a little detail about ourselves. Everyone went down the line smoothly, and I'm ready to bust out of my chair when it was Maracelle's turn. She has her arms tucked in front of her, her blond hair brushed away from her face gently, and she does this whole bounce thing that makes me so.. angry. She got on this pink laced blouse, and a red plaid skirt that's up to her knees. She has white stockings on that connects to her black shoes. She looks like a perfect little doll, who's head I want to pop off.

"Hello Zachary," She says sweetly, "My name is Maracelle Langsdorf," and then she adds the best thing about herself, "and my daddy owns the Western Bank," She gets this huge grin with her pearly whites as she sits gracefully back down.

After that introduction, even I was hypnotized. There was just this heavenly atmosphere that would make you think Maracelle was some kind of Angel. But Zach? He just looks up at her, his face still idle, and his emotions never changing. Then the next kid goes, and the next, and it was my turn.

Thinking about Maracelly made me completely forget what I was going to say. I didn't know why, but I wasn't scared, at all.

I stood up quickly, and said in a little too loud voice, "Hi Zach, my name is Cammie, and-" Oh crap. I didn't know what to say! Where does mom work? I DON'T KNOW! Dad? I don't even know what he does! I couldn't think of anything interesting, so I said the first thing I could think of, "-and my favorite letter in the alphabet is O," Oh Jesus, did I just say that? That was completely STUPID! He probably thinks I'm some sort of weirdo! I awkwardly sat back down and the whole classroom is silent. But things took an unexpected turn, Zach looked directly at me, and SMILED. He actually SMILED! At me!

"My favorite letter is O, too!" He said with a smirk. That was the first time I heard his voice. It was soothing, and enchanting, and it makes you just wanna grab him and KISS him. The silence following the words sliced the air between us. Maracelle looked like she was about to throw a huge tantrum. She crossed her arms and glared at me. I didn't reply to Zach, so the Thomas, the kid next to me, saved me, when he stood up and continued the introductions. Later on, we had silent reading where we picked a spot in the room and read our favorite book. I grabbed a random book, it was titled "Mike Mulligan's Steam Shovel," and crawled into my favorite corner, the empty one.

Maracelle "happened" to walk by, and looking down at me, she said,

"Cammie dear, doesn't that book have too much words for you?" I stared up at her blankly.

And with that, she twirls herself around and skips away, her golden locks bouncing with each step. I awfully thought this book was too EASY for me! I mean, I read it just about a bazillion times, excluding the times Mrs. Wieber read it aloud to us, (Since it was the only book in our classroom that has more than 3 words per page) Across the room, I could see Zach, his eyes kind of narrowing, and for sure, definitely, he was looking at me, again! I sure hope he didn't think I was stupid. Without hesitation, he picks up his book (which had a red cover, with no words on it) and walked out the door. That's right! He just walks right out of our classroom and walks away into the hallway.

Nobody saw him leave! What could I do? I knew for SURE, he was going to get into HUGE trouble!

I'm sitting there, dumbstruck. What just happened?


	4. Chapter 4, Run

**Author's Note**: Such lovely comments! I REALLY appreciate them! It convinces me that I'm actually not wasting my time writing these, and having no one reading them. But thanks for all of you reviewers. REALLY makes me happy! Here's chapter Four! Enjoy!

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Oh no. What should I do? Did he just... leave? I've never met nor seen anyone do that before!

Mrs. Wieber was all the way across the room, her face glued to her computer. Should I raise my hand and tell her? No, that would consider me a tattle tell. I really didn't want Zach to get in trouble on his FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL. It was weird. I had this strange attraction to him, like maybe, I knew him before or something. I thought about it a little. I don't get how those weird teenagers can go hand-in-hand with their boyfriends and KISS. That is just way too disgusting and retching! I mean, who knows what those boys eat! Zachary as my boyfriend? Heck no! I will never want a boyfriend! Even if it's Zach. Never. Ever. I mean, I like Zach, I guess... but not enough to swallow his saliva. It's just, I wanna be next to him, and feel his presence, that's enough for **me**!

What was so different about him, is that he wasn't too sucked up in Maracelle's prettiness. He was so strong and just plainly, _different. _When I first heard him talk, I even thought about kissing him... maybe. (Which is GROSS!)

Just put it like this, I like Zach, and I don't want him to get in trouble. Not on his first day, not now, not ever.

I crawl silently across the room like a bug and sneaked outside.

This is what's amazing. No one notices me. Ever. I'm like a chameleon, I like being invisible and unseen. I like the feeling that I can always be alone, and that I can always depend on... myself.

Mrs. Wieber's room is the last room at the end of the hall, so the only place you can really turn is... left. I creep down the hall silently, passing by the other classrooms, making sure to hide myself when I pass the office. I trust my instincts and I turn right, into the empty hallway that leads into the band room.

They put the band room far, far away from all the other classrooms, so that when the band members play, they won't disturb the classes.

I take a quick peek inside, it's empty. I turn around briskly and every nerve in my body jumped, for the first time in my life.

A hand clasped over my mouth from behind, and their other strong hand grabbed my waist and began to drag me into the supply closet.

My mind's racing, and I guess it was some sort of natural reflex, but I kicked my left leg up to my left shoulder and it hit the person in the face, hard. There was a slight wince. I guess it was a kid, because I actually managed to reach his/her face. I then quickly grab their arm, turned it around their back, kicked their knee, and let's just say I got a pretty good view of Zachary Goode on the ground.

I regretted every second from the minute I swung my feet. I've never been so scared in my entire life. I bet I broke his nose, or his arm, or maybe even his rib!

I let go of his warm hands and kneel down beside him.

"Oh my gosh! Zach! I am SOOO sorry! Are you okay?" I'm asking a bazillion questions a minute. I kept apologizing over and over and over and over again.

To my surprise? He just picks himself up, brushes his arm, smooths out the wrinkles of his shirt, and stands there, his mouth gaping just a little. The words that came out of his mouth hit me like a bullet train.

"You're Cammie, right?"

And that's how I died ladies and gentlemen... okay... maybe I didn't die, but standing there almost killing the most gorgeous boy on the planet, and having him forget my name (which was mentioned about 15 minutes ago!) was a big sucker punch.

His face was still idle, a little shock squeezed in there, but it was definitely still the same. He didn't look like he was kidding, and I had no idea what to say.

"Yea... it's Cammie.." I replied quietly, looking down at my shoes. They were old, white sneakers that my mom got me. I'm wearing this pair of ripped jeans and a plain, white t-shirt, a little too big for my size.

My face turned bright red and I could feel it flushing through my face. A rush of anger and disappointment swarmed over me, but then reality hit me instead.

He wouldn't like me. What was I thinking? I mean, I'm Cammie, the girl people would think twice about looking at, and he's ZACH. He catches your eye right away, he's so mysterious and exciting and makes you feel just about nauseous as you can get. Plus, I remembered. I like to be alone, I don't like having friends. So why did I run after this boy? Why did I risk my perfect quiet goodie-girl reputation, for _him_? A boy I just met?

I turned around quickly and started to walk, rather fast, away from the boy that has broken me with 3 words.

"Cammie! Wait!" He's calling after me now, I could hear his footsteps running behind me.

I walk faster.

"Cammie! Please wait!"

And then I started to run.

I'm practically one of the fastest runners in the entire... **school**. I could out-run the 5th graders and the 6th, and so on. Even though I walk every time we do our daily laps in gym, I bet I can run 4 lapts for ever 1 lap that the other kids do. Aunt Abby makes me run one mile every time she visits. At first, it was really tiring, but I got stronger, and stronger, and my legs and lungs were stronger, and I could run a mile in about 5 minutes. I always loved running. The wind in my face, the whole world around me a blur, and I feel completely invincible.

Daddy always used to call me his little Cheetah and I would run up to him, and he would carry me up and swing me around and around until we both get dizzy.

I'm still running, my feet stumbling ahead of each other.

There's no where to go, so I'm busting through the doors that lead outside. I know I was going to get in _major_ trouble for leaving school without permission, but I didn't care.

I just wanted to disappear, like the chameleon I am. So I'm running, and running. And running. And running.

I could hear his footsteps behind me, so I keep on running, faster and faster.

I'm going full speed now, and I doubt he can catch up to me. I'm running across the track field behind the school building. I can't hear his footsteps anymore, so I slow down a bit.

What surprised me was that a hand grabbed my shoulder and tackles me onto grass.

Zach is awkwardly belly flat down on top of me. His hands are pinning mine down. My face is pressed against the grass, and I can feel his head on top of mine.

I could not believe it.

Zachary Goode, just out-ran me, Cameron Ann Morgan, the Cheetah.

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**Author's Note**: I know I usually do this thing at the beginning, but I'm sorry if the whole Cheetah thing is a bit cheesy!

I mean, C'mon guys, she's like Five Years old! (Or six, I forgot)

But thanks for reading! :) Next chapter soon!


	5. Chapter 5, Tell Me Everything

**Author's Note**: For any of you who have Tumblrs, follow me? I will follow you back! (Pinkie Swear!)

It's _DropTopping(dot)tumblr(dot)com_. Well sorry for the lack of updates! School's getting tougher and tougher lately, so I need to catch up and get hustling! I am entering Calvin College Youth Writing Festival at my school, and I hope that I'm one of the 12 that get chosen! So here's the next chapter! Enjoy!

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He's pinning me against the grass and I'm suffocating.

"Get off of me!" I screamed, my voice muffled against the ground.

"Not until you shut up and answer my questions!" He shouts back, his voice raising higher and higher, his tone becoming harsher.

I'm wrestling him and pushing him with all my might, but no matter what I tried, I couldn't get him off of me. His body was too strong, even for me, and I just couldn't unpin myself. I tried grabbing his neck and twisting him, but his hands snatched me up before I could do anything. I'm still on the ground kicking and punching and thrashing wildly as he held me down. He flips me over and his lips are dangerously close to mine.

I look up at his green eyes and they were just so hypnotizing. The sun falls behind him, and blue skies background his face. It was like a perfect picture, a memory; that I would always remember.

"Cammie! Listen to me!" His voice cuts into my eardrums. I didn't know why, but my body became suddenly paralyzed, I stop fighting, and just laid there, listening to him.

"Tell me," He whispers sharply, "Where did you learn how to run like that? Who taught you all those fighting moves?"

I'm speechless, I have no idea what to say. Even though Mommy told me not to tell anyone anything, it was just the way his eyes stared down at me that I started to break.

"I take Karate down-town and my aunt really loves running," The words were just spilling and spilling out of my mouth, and I just couldn't stop, "I can read chapter books, like really, really big books and I know what they mean and how to pronounce them and I can do long division and say the periodic element table and calculate advanced physics in my head and I can speak fluent French and German and I'm learning Hebrew and I can write as fast as I can speak and, and.." I'm practically out of breath, saying all the things that's been shoved up inside my little life for so long, that I finally explode.

Zach studies me for a second, his mouth half gaping, and his face completely shocked. He slowly gets up and reaches out his hand for me. I hesitate before grabbing it, and he helps me up on my feet.

He just looks at me REAAAL slow and he didn't reply at all. A glint of acknowledgement sparkled in his eyes. The funny thing is? He hasn't let go of my hand yet. My hand was tucked inside his big, strong palm. It was warm, and made my whole body feel like it was on fire. There was this weird tingling feeling when the places we touched, that just made me snap out of reality. At that moment, I never wanted to let go. Never. Ever.

In silence, he leads me across the field, over the bridge, and back into the school building. As we approach the door that took us out, Zach pushes against the handles, but it wouldn't budge.

"We're locked in," He said for the first time in forever, "Great, just… great."

Zach lets go of my hand and I felt as if something got sucked out of me, like maybe a piece of me was missing or something. I longed for him, and found myself reaching for his hand at times.

He looks around the empty lot around us, presses his ear against the cold, black door and he stands like that for a really long time.

Suddenly, Zach pops his head back up,

"Cammie!" He screams, pointing to the empty lot behind me in alarm, "Look! Hurry!"

I shot myself around tuning my entire body. It was empty. There were no cars, the whole town was deserted. The playground was kid-less, and I was looking at…. _nothing._

"W-wait, Zach, there's noth-" I turn back to face him again.

There he was, his back leaning against the door, his arms crossed him front of him, and a slight smirk slashed across his face. The door was open.

"I could not believe you fell for that," He says with a slight chuckle.

The locked door was open. It was open. OHMYGOSH IT WAS OPEN!

"W-w… what? How? When? What did you do? How did you do that?" I'm bedazzled, I knew for sure the back door was only opened if you were from the inside, and I'm pretty positive that Zach was outside. How did he get that door open? A hint of suspicion grew over me like moss.

"A magician never tells his secret," He replies smoothly. And with that, he turns around, and starts walking back down the hall.

"You comin'?" He shouts from the doorway. Slowly, and tiredly, I trudge through the doorway and headed towards the classroom with him. I ran up to Zach, and found myself reaching for his hand again, but stopped myself halfway.

"Wait," I said, as it finally hit me like a bullet. I stopped dead, "What are we suppose to tell Mrs. Wieber? WE LEFT WITHOUT PERMISSION!" Oooohhh noo… my clean record will now be demolished! I cannot believe we left this building without permission!

Zach just looks at me REAL slow and a small smirk spreads across his face again. He stuffs his hands into his pockets and started walking slowly, pulling me along with him.

"Don't worry about it," He says calmly, "I'll take care of everything," and with that, he stops smirking, his joyous expression now gone, and his face becomes idle again once more.


	6. Chapter 6, Sitting in a Tree

**Author's Note**: It's been about a week [and a half?] since I've last updated. I'm so sorry! I've been so busy busy that I barely remembered how old I am. Well here's the next chapter! PLEASE Review and Subscribe. Reviews mean a lot to me! They make me smile!

P.S. This was a long chapter and I really didn't wanna re-read it and edit it and such, so please forgive the grammar errors!

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The whole class is staring us as we walk through the door. For the first time in my life, all eyes were on me. Maracelle is glaring insanely at me, her eyebrows narrowing.

Mrs. Wieber jumps up from her desk chair and runs over to us.

"My Good Lord! Where were you two?" She does that whole adult kneeling thing next to us. She squishes me and Zach together in a breath-taking squeeze. "You guys got me worried to the bone! What have you been up to?" I fidget awkwardly, staring at Zach for desperate help.

"I got sick," He replies sadly, his eyes bubbly and puppy-like. He looks up at Mrs. Wieber and she's in a complete trance. Oh how absolutely, adorably convincing Zach was! "I felt sick to my stomach and ran towards the bathroom." He says, staring innocently down at his white sneakers, "I didn't want to throw up in front of everyone on my first day, so I ran outside. Cammie saw me, and ran to my rescue." My stomach twisted as everyone turned their attention to me. Of course, the entire class was listening, and it made me feel awfully nauseous when Zach said that 'I ran to his rescue,' He blinks sadly up at Mrs. Wieber, who was smiling empathetically.

She brushes her hand on his soft cheeks, "Oh that's alright, dear. I understand," She turns to me, her smile big and proud, "and Cammie, sweetie, you've been a great help!" I couldn't help but grin like an idiot, it's not everyday that you get praised in front of the entire class, you alone.

Mrs. Wieber always praises us, but never as an individual. We were all one, and she never wanted anyone to feel left out. She always said things like, "My, my! Aren't these drawings wonderful!" instead of, "Your drawing is amazing Maracelle!"

Which, indeed is usually true. Maracelle usually excelled more than everyone else [excluding me]. Even though she was more spoiled than a year old milk, she was very competitive and self-centered. Either she was the best, or nothing at all.

Even though during Art, I draw lop-sided circles and scribbles, I am actually pretty good [not that I'm bragging whatsoever].

Even though Maracelle get praised for those 5 lined star drawings, I could have drawn a 3D version.

Even though it bothers me that Maracelle looks down upon me, I know that it wouldn't make a difference.

She'd still hate me, this way or that.

It's recess, the sky is blue and the sun is shining like Maracelle's hair. [Yes, the sun was compared to Maracelle's hair, not Maracelle's hair being compared to the sun!]

There's an oak tree in the far corner of the playground next to the soccer field. I run wildly towards it. I always love this oak tree. It was so tall, that it overlooked the entire community. Reaching the oak's trunk, the green grass blows welcomingly at me. I look around, making sure that no one was looking, before reaching for the first branch. I hoist myself up, digging my toes into the trunk.

I've climbed the Oak Tree about a million times, almost every single recess. I've sat up on the top branches, leaning against the soft leaves, the wind blowing my hair.

It takes me exactly 2 minutes and 38 seconds before reaching my favorite branch.

I look out at our playground, looking out at the kids running around screaming like there's no tomorrow.

"I wish-" I said allowed, my voice hollow and clear in the clear, _I wish I had a friend. _Finishing the thought inside my head. I lean against a big branch, like a usually do, and close my eyes gently.

Nobody dares to go to the Soccer Field. The 5th graders would KILL us! The 5th graders were a bunch of soccer playing freaks. They always "called" the field, as if they owned it. Even though it was our recess hour, whether the 5th graders were there or not, the field was theirs.

5 months ago, a 2nd grader name Dobie Carlson pitched his baseball onto the soccer field. Of course, all his friends convinced him that going into the soccer field was a bad idea, he just shrugged, thinking the 5th graders will never know, and ran to grab his baseball.

Somehow, the 5th graders did end up finding it.

The next day, Dobie came to school with a mission baseball, and a black eye. The teachers tried talking to him about it, but he just shrugged and said he fell down the stairs. Of course, Dobie didn't have stairs. A couple of years ago, his mom got into a really bad car accident, and Mommy would often come over to bring dinner for his family. Sitting in the car, I could measure the house inside my head. No basement, no attic. Only idiots would know, that Dobie Carlson, really didn't fall down the stairs.

Being the "Cheetah" that I am, rushing across the soccer field and climbing up the tree like a monkey, really wasn't as hard as it was; and being the "Chameleon" that I am, no one really paid attention to me.

Until Now.

I'm leaning gently against the Oak Tree with my eyes closed. I could feel the soft, cool wind against my hair, blowing it behind me. And then I felt it. Someone was looking at me. I could feel their sharp eyes watching me. I bolt upright, looking around insanely.

And then he was there. Sitting right next to me.

"Hey," Zach said calmly, as if we're not 40 ft above the ground.

His legs dangle lightly underneath him, his brown, caramel hair swaying across his green, green eyes. I jumped up slightly. My legs slip against the curve of the branch, and that's when I began to loose balance. I let out a little yelp as I begin the shift to the right, 40 ft bellow a broken neck.

Zach reaches out quickly, his hands gripping my shoulders holding me upright, "Whoa there, Cammie, careful," He's smirking charmingly at me. He's finding me amusing! I shove his hands off my shoulders. "I am very much capable of holding myself upright!" I said a little to snooty.

He lets out a soothing chuckle.

"You sure about that?"

I give him a playful punch in the arm and couldn't help but laugh along with him.

I look into his eyes, and he looked deep into mines. Our laughter died slowly, and we just sat there, staring at each other like fools.

There was a soft, pitching voice bellow.

Oh no, it was Maracelle and her crew. They were all around her, even some of the other boys gathered around, trying to see what the commotion was.

"Hey everyone!" Maracelle screamed, "Zach and Cam-mie! Sittin' in a tree!" Then everyone synced in with her, "K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

My face turns red and I could feel the heat rising up my throat. I look at Zach, and his face is once more, idle. There was no sign of embarrassment, no sign of anger.

Without hesitation, he climbs down the tree without mission a single beat.

Everyone crowded around him,

"Zach-ie! Zach-ie!" Maracelle cried, her voice almost pleading, "You're not really with _that girl_, are you?" She grips his arm slightly.

Zach didn't even bother to look up at me, and laughs out loud, "_Her? _Of course not! She got stuck up there and called for help, I only climbed up there to help her down," My stomach drops, my heart completely crushed. Zach leaves the crowd and walks away from everyone, from me. I could feel the anger and sadness rushing over me. My palms began to get sweaty, and the world started to spin insanely. I grip the trunk for support as everything begin to tumble.

As the bell rings the crowd bellow slowly began to leave, with me, completely alone.

A big, fat tear rolls slowly down my cheek, sliding off my chin, dripping off the tree like a lonely raindrop.

Once again, reality hit me. Why did I care? I liked being alone, I liked sitting alone at recess and having the Oak Tree to myself. Nobody likes me, especially someone like Zach. And I didn't care. Right….?


	7. Chapter 7, Mine

**Author's Note**: My lord! I logged online yesterday and my entire email was flooded with Fanfiction notifications. I read through EVER SINGLE REVIEW. Twice. They make me incredibly ecstatic! I'm super encouraged and inspired right now! Thank you, thank you THANK YOU so much for all those LOVELY reviews! Well I entered my school's writing festival contest, and 6 students get chosen to go to a festival, in which… **I WON**! I'm one of the 6 that was chosen to go! I get to go through courses with [unannounced] famous authors and they will be sharing tips, secrets, ect. I also get to meet the author of Esperanza Rising, Pam Munoz Ryan, I'm super excited, and my writing was also entered in a state-wide contest, and I was one of the 20 final writers! Aaahhh! Anyways, no more of my useless blabbing, here's the next chapter! Enjoy!

* * *

After the bell rings, I slowly climb down the tree, disappointed and crushed, I walk towards our line to get inside. Nobody even gives me a second glance.

It was coloring hour, and I just thought this whole idea was stupid. Wasting paper on such unimportant tasks, was just STUPID.

After taking my seat, I put my heads down on my desk, my back turned on Zach's chair.

Through the reflection of the window, I could see Mrs. Wieber leaning in down on Zach as he whispers something in her ear. She nods understandingly, gives me a quick look, and points to the other side of the room.

Even though he did it in silence, I could mouth out his words. _Thank-you _to her

Zach walks all the way to the back of the room, and sits down on an empty desk next to Ben Anderson. I could feel Maracelle's evil grin directed on me, I could feel Zach looking down on his desk, idle and uncaring. I quickly turned away, and found myself strangely thinking about Ben.

Ben Anderson was the nicest kid in the entire school, and possibly universe. He was the ONLY person who talks to me, the ONLY person who smiles at me. He always says hello, with a big, bright smile, always offers his crayons and fruit snacks, and always gives you a nice big push on the swings. Ben was taller than most of us, his hair black, and his skin pale. The way his long lashes always brush up against his cheeks make me wonder why Maracelle wasn't all over him ever since he moved here.

Oh yea, that's right. They were step-siblings. Maracelle's father married Ben's mother. Oh, how sorry I feel for that sweet boy, having to live in the same house as Maracelle Langsdorf.

I snap back into reality as Mrs. Wieber puts the stupid coloring sheet on my desk. Giving me a slight, comforting pat on the shoulder.

I reach into my desk and grab my coloring box and hesitated before reaching for the Green Crayon. Green. His eyes….

_Don't think about him, Cammie! _

Not paying attention, I colored the trunk green, but I didn't care. It was different, I like it different, I like _BEING _different.

I took out a red crayon and scribbled the tree top angrily. A chair scraped the ground and I saw Maracelle running across the room towards Zach.

My stomach twists like a corkscrew.

"Hey Zach!" She cries, standing in front of his desk, her body swaying right and left, right and left, right and left….. So hypnotizing…

Zach didn't even look up from his coloring sheet, [which, he scribbled on, insanely also]

"Hi," he replied, dead, plain, and simple.

"May I color with you?" She asks, her voice bubbly and perky.

"Sure," He says again, still not looking up.

Maracelle ran and grabbed a chair, dragging it towards his table, then scooching it next to his seat, between him and Ben, plopping herself down. She didn't even bother to look at her Step-Brother, who was awfully squished.

Maracelle looks deviously across the room towards me, and smiles her evil smile. Right then, I swear to Jesus I could just grab my yellow crayon, and throw it across the room, where it will hit her in the face, **hard. **But I couldn't, and I didn't.

"So Zach," She says, squeezing in next to him, putting her coloring sheet and crayons on his desk, "What's your favorite food?"

He didn't answer, and Maracelle awkwardly replied for him, "Mine is Baby Carrots with Ranch. So who is your favorite singer?"

"I don't have one," He says, his face still idle, with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Well mine is Hannah Montana," She says proudly, "I got to meet her once, my daddy bought me backstage passes!" She didn't take his hint.

"Good for you," He replies coldly.

Maracelle bites her bottom lip, the way she does when she's sad, upset, or doesn't get her way. You could see the disappointment in her eyes. For a split second, I felt sorry for her, but then my empathy evaporate, _snap! _Just like that.

"Well…. Is your favorite crayon red? Because you're using it awfully a lot," She moves closer to him, "My favorite crayon is pink, because it's a really nice crayon, and it's my favorite color,"

And then it happens. Zach just… blows up. Everything in him kind of breaks.

"WHO CARES!" He jumps up from his chair like a kangaroo, "It's JUST A CRAYON, IT'S A COLOR, it will get you NOWHERE in life! NOBODY CARES! And especially not ME!" For the first time since in class, Zach's face wasn't idle. He was in complete rage and anger, as it it's been building up inside him, and it finally popped. The whole class is staring at them, even Mrs. Wieber, the silence following was completely awkward.

Tears started to build up in Maracelle's eyes, and Zach's breathing steadies itself.

"Oh my," he says, his voice, _much_, softer this time, "I am so sorry, Maracelle. It's just, it's just that it's my first day, and I miss all my old friends, and my parents made me move, and made me leave everything behind, I'm dearly sorry I lost my temper, I'm feeling quite homesick."

And then he hugs her.

HUGS HER.

As in, wrap his arms around her, and draws her close to him, her head resting on his chest. She hiccups, the way she does when she's sad.

A rush of jealousy and anger swept over me in a split second. HOW DARE SHE! HOW DARE SHE TOUCH _MY_ ZACH!

My words surprise me, _my Zach? _I didn't own him, but the way he smiled at me FIRST, and the way he sat up there with me in the Oak Tree, it felt as if he was my possession, as if he was mine, ONLY mine, and that NO ONE, especially Maracelle can hug him, and _he_ shall not hug _her_!

I turn my back on them, forcing myself not to look any longer. My stomach drops, and I wish I haven't witnessed the whole scene.

**Zach is mine.**

And I am definitely, not letting Maracelle have him.


	8. Chapter 8, Orange Skittles

Author's Note: Whoopie Doo, when was the last time I wrote the last chapter? [I have no idea] Well I guess I really got off topic in the plot, so this fanfic is gonna be ridiculously long now! I'm gonna write super long chapters to try and squeeze everything in together. Hope you enjoy!

P.S. I wrote this in about 5 minutes, please excuse my scrawl.

* * *

I stand outside the curb watching my mom's car driving smoothly into the school's pick-up driveway. The black, spotless minivan drives up in front of me without a single sound. Kids all around hustled and bustled, tired from a long day of school. I swung my backpack over my shoulder and slid the car door open. My mom looks at me from behind and gives me a sweet, loving smile.

"Hey Mommy," I said, as I climb in my booster seat, clicking the seat belt in place.

"Hey Sweet Pea," She replies, her voice cool and soothing, "How was school today?"

"Fine," I lied, looking out the window. Some of the other parents who walk their kids home looked enviously at us. I have to say, this car practically costs a fortune, and with a hot brunette mom driving it? Who wouldn't be jealous!

My mom gives the observers a little wave, her slender fingers moving gracefully. She smiles at me in the rear view mirror, her white eye-burning teeth flashing at me. Her soft, brown eyes sharp and careful.

She starts driving slowly, down the turn lane, around the school, and we're about to take a turn into the road when she slams onto the brakes. I jolt forward suddenly, my seat belt slamming me back into my seat.

"Cammie," my mom says, her voice in a frantic, "Cammie, honey, who is that boy?" She points across the street at a brown head, who's eyes were green. He was waving gently at us, his smirk wide and strong. His flannel floating the breeze.

"That's Zach mom, he's a new student," I replied my face glued to the window.

My mom turns around the study me, a tiny flick of fear sparkles in her eyes. A car from behind honks at us and my mom slowly pulls out into the road, driving past Zach standing on the sidewalk.

We're about half-way home when my mom suddenly speaks, breaking the silence,

"Tell me about this kid, Cam. What's he like?"

I just shrug, "I don't know mom, he's quite strange." I couldn't tell her that I told our big secret, I couldn't tell her that he could climb a 40 foot tree, because I was up there too, I couldn't tell her that I liked him either. I could hear the crack in her voice.

"Cammie, dear, listen to me," She pulls up into our driveway, "Stay away from that boy, do you hear me, Cameron Ann Morgan? You **stay away **from that boy," She turns around to look at me again, her eyes full of fear, her voice trembling.

There was something about the way her lips twitched that I didn't dare to answer.

We both unbuckle our seat belt and walk into the house.

It's morning recess. The air is soft and the sky is aqua, lightening up everyone's mood instantly. I walk awkwardly down the pavement and into the huge playground. We share morning recess with the entire school, unluckily for me, I am already trampled by the kids in my grade, and now it's the entire school walking square on my face.

A fourth grader, who's blond, golden hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, walked by me, her backpack giving me a big push backwards. Her little posse followed right behind, their matching pink skirts followed her like clones.

It's snack time. The time in school in which I actually enjoy. This week? Skittles, my favorite. Mrs. Wieber gives everyone a small pack and we all excitedly opens our package, colorful skittles spilling out everywhere. I dump mine out on my table, pushing them in an area so they don't roll off. I pick off all the orange ones and set them aside. Then, I take the rest and jams them into my jean pocket. Here's the silly thing about me: I only eat the orange skittles. You'd probably think that's strange [which it really is] but orange is just my favorite flavor. I love the way it tastes inside my mouth. I love the bright color of orange. Yea, I know, I'm weird, I get that a lot.

I pop an orange skittle in my mouth and let it soften until I chew on it. Someone taps on my shoulder, I look up, startled. A pair of brown eyes stare into mines. It was Andrea Nguyen, the girl that sits behind me.

"Hey, you're Cammie, right?" She says, her long, black hair glistening in the sunlight. I gotta admit, when she said that, the words pierced that me like an arrow. I mean, I sat in front of the girl for almost every single class and subject. She lives across the block from me, and we've basically known each other ever single preschool.

"Um… yea," I replied, looking her up and down.

Andrea had just about the most glowing skin in the world. Her complexions was just right. It wasn't too tan, and wasn't too pale. Her eyes were large and daring, and she was sweet and fair. And then it hit me. This was a little suspicious, I mean, Andrea was Maracelle's best friend. The two pretty much makes a perfect pair. They were both popular, both gorgeous, both good at art, and both smart. But someone as sweet as Andrea just doesn't go along with evil little Maracelle.

They always walked arm in arm, walking across the playground, their little posse following them around, obeying their every command, or should I say, Maracelle's command. Even though Andrea was nicer than Maracelle, Maracelle just simply excels her in everything, by just a little. Maracelle was just a little prettier, just a little more popular, just a little more… perfect.

Andrea reaches out her clenched hands and opens them, looking down upon them, I saw a stash of orange skittles. I gasp a little.

"It's for you." She says, I didn't dare reach up to grab them, even though I wanted to, very badly.

Andrea laughs a little, "Go on, take them. I've watched you all year, sorting out the orange skittles, and only eating the orange skittles. I thought maybe you should have mine,"

Possibilities swarm through me. What did she do to them? Did Maracelle poison them and told her to give them to me? I didn't know why, but I hands reached out, and Andrea dumped the orange skittles into my palm.

She rests her chin on her hands and smiles warmly at me. I pick one of them up with my other hand, and smelled them. It didn't smell poisonous. They were a little damp, from the heat of Andrea's body, but I didn't mind. I pop one in my mouth, waited it to soften, and then chews it slowly.

I felt my pulse. I wasn't dying, wasn't puking, wasn't choking. I look up at Andrea, and smile at her, REAL big.

"Thanks," I reply simply, unable to say more. Andrea was still smiling, her grin wide and stretching a mile a minute. And then, just like _that_, it disappeared. Wiped off her face faster than light.

She stared blankly behind me, and I slowly turn around to be facing a white-laced dress, who's body belonged to- Maracelle.

"ANDREA!" She screamed, hands on her hips, head cocked, eyebrows narrow. She scrunched her lips together, "What are you doing? Giving your candy to this-" She looks at me, "_thing_,"

I bolt upright, fist clenched, teeth grinding.

"I can assure you, Maracelle Langsdorf, that I am not a THING," I shove myself at her, and out of the corner of my eye, I can see her flinch a bit.

"Whatever," she replies, unable to say anymore. She turns her attention back to Andrea, "Next time, when you even _think about betraying me, you'll regret your every nerve."_

And with a flip of her hair, she turns around and walks back to her desk. To my surprise, no one stared at us, no one noticed a thing.

Zach's hand jumps into the air and he practically shouts, "MRS. WIEBER! MAY I USE THE RESTROOM!" Without even an answer from our teacher, he scrapes his chair back, and briskly walks out the door.

Coincidental, I swallowed my skittle without chewing it, and it traveled down my body. URGH. Heart Burn.

I raised my hand, "Mrs. Wieber? May I get a drink?" She looks up at me, and nods slowly

I fly out the door and ran towards the drinking fountain down the hall pass the North exit.

After getting 17 gulps of water, the heart burn died down and I was back to normal.

I sighed, wiping my mouth with my sleeve. I walked back down the hallway, and when passing the North exit, something, or should I say someone, caught my eye.

Zach was outside the school, again. He was covering one ear with his hand, and was talking into the phone. I couldn't help but slid below, where there was so glass to see through. I pressed my ear against the door, and the words came clearer than I thought.

"Yes, yes. Yes, I know, I won't screw up, I promise," there was a pause, "Yes, yes sir, the subject has not made contact," there was another pause, "I know, will you hold on, sir? It seems like there's a little birdie listening on my conversation,"

And before I could run, the door opened and I fell forward from leaning against the door.

He stares down at me, eyes gleaming with hysterical, "I'm gonna have to call you back sir," and with that, he claps the phone shut, and leans against the wall, eyes still glued on me. A glint of amusement crossed his face.

"Spying on me, are you now, Cammie?"


	9. Chapter 9, Disappear

**Author's Note: **I seriously completely forgot about this fanfic, I'm SO SORRY for the almost 3 weeks wait. Hope I'm forgiven! :) Well here's chapter 9! Those of you who have a Tumblr, please follow me Droptopping|Tumblr. Enjoy!

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"_"Spying on me, are you now, Cammie?" _

I looked up into his green eyes. The funny thing is? I wasn't surprised that he caught me.

I scoff pathetically as I stood up, brushing my knees.

"Spying?" I replied, my voice sarcastically cold, "I was _observing_," He chuckles.

"_Observing_ what?" He crosses his arms, tucking the black phone inside his jean pocket, "Or should I say, observing _who_?" There goes that annoying smirk.

"The carpet," I replied, I could feel myself begin to smile, "It's ridiculously filthy," He smiles at me, and I smile back. "So who was that you were with on the phone?" His smile flashed off of his face, _snap! _just like that. He shifts his feet and jams his hands into his pocket.

"No one," he snaps, his voice cold and harsh, "None of your business,"

They were lost. Incredibly helpless. I was so amused, hysterical even, watching Maracelle's posse. They were scared, like a bunch of deer in a crowd of lions, with Maracelle around, everyone respected them, complimented them, and always smiled and said hi. But Maracelle wasn't here. People were pushing them, bumping into them, yelling at them to move faster in line. Whatever, they were hopeless, and even though I know it's cold, I enjoyed every second of it. The 6 six girls sat in next to the center table. Usually, they OWNED the center table, nobody dared to sit there without their permission.

A crowd 2nd graders took their spot, glared at them to beat it. Andrea grabbed her lunch and finally sat with them. There was a safe feeling within them, relieved to have Andrea to protect them.

It was lunch, the cafeteria was awfully quieter than it usually was. I sat in the far table in the corner next to five other 3rd graders who probably didn't even know I was there.

I stab my chicken nugget with my plastic spork [combination between a fork and a spoon] and

dipped it in my ketchup, popping it into my mouth. I looked around the cafeteria. Surprisingly? It was peaceful. Where was Maracelle today? She was here earlier. I looked around for Zach, he wasn't here also.

I don't know why, but sitting in class, watching Maracelle's empty chair made me kind of, nerve-racked. Maracelle had the perfect attendance. She was never absent, never late, and never had to go home early. Something was up, and Zach was involved.

"Oh Dear Lord," Mrs. Wieber said aloud, "Where's Maracelle?" She looked around the class, hoping someone to reply to her.

"I don't know," Andrea replied, as everyone looked at her, "I haven't seen her since we went to lunch."

Mrs. Wieber looked awfully troubled. Her skin turned paler than it already was, and eyes started to blink faster than normal.

"And where is Zachary?" Mrs. Wieber said again, as she saw his empty chair. She looked at me. **AT ME**, as if I was responsible for him!

I just shrugged at her, and could feel my stomach starting to go queasy. Mrs. Wieber paced back and forth, and picked up the classroom phone. She punched in some numbers, and the whole class waited in silence.

"Hello?" Mrs. Wieber said into the handset, "Hi, it's Julie here, we have two missing students, Zachary Goode and Maracelle Langsdorf, have they already been excused home yet?" Another death pause as Mrs. Wieber's eyes bulged out of her sockets, "Okay, okay. Thank-you, please call me if-," She stopped herself and looked at us, "if anything happens," She slams the headset down and her whole body began to shake.

"Mrs. Wieber?" Diana called out. Diana was Andrea's second best friend, who was also, unfortunately, another Maracelle follower, "Are you okay?"

Mrs. Wieber barely nods her head,

"Is Zach and Maracelle okay?" Diana said again.

Mrs. Wieber snapped out of the trance she was in, as if a switch was turned, she sat up straighter, her smile spreading once more, and said, "Of course! They're both fine!" It was slightly scary.

Even through the bright, loving smile of my teacher, I knew she was lying. Something was definitely up, and I got a bad feeling about this.

He was just there. I'm not even kidding.

After much ruckus in the school building, including phone calls to the office, to the parents and guardian of Maracelle and Zach, and then finally to the police; it felt like forever until afternoon recess. I'm sitting on the swings by myself, rocking it back and forth with my leg, when suddenly, somebody grabs my swing seat and starts to push. My natural instinct was to flip over and body slam them into the woodchips, but the way the strong hands grabbed it, made the hair on my neck stand up on its ends and I was completely paralyzed.

"Hey there, Cammie," a soft voice whispers in my ear, making my stomach twist insanely. I spun around, hopping off of the swing, pushing him away from me, hard. He stumbled back a couple steps, but then catches himself, and he's laughing through it all, _laughing! _

"_Where were you Zachary Goode?" I looked deep into his hysterical eyes, "You got us worried sick!" The moment the words escaped my lips, I wish I never said them. _

_His eyebrows raised, his eyes sparkled, and a bright glint popped on his face._

"_Us?" He repeats me, "Us?" He pauses, "Oh, you were worried about me?" He says mockingly, stepping towards me. I step back. He steps forward, I step back. _

_Scoffing, I said sarcastically, "Worried? About you?" I fake a careless laugh, "I was more worried about Maracelle!" I cock my hips at him, "You know, her little posse is very, very, lost without her, I'm dearly worried about them," I gesture to the group, sitting on the picnic bench, hunched together like lost puppies in a cardboard box. _

_Zach's smile disappeared instantly, for a second, I thought he was actually offended. "Cammie, I need to talk to you," He looks at me, straight in the eye, his face suddenly serious._

_I bite my bottom lip, "Um… okay," I reply, shifting my weight, looking down at my shoes awkwardly._

_After a moment of silence, I finally look up at him._

"_Cammie," He says, his voice shaky, "I need your help," _

_I look at him sideways, his blue T-shirt and baggy jeans really brings out the colors of his eyes…. Oh yea… what were we talking about? I suddenly snapped back into reality, just in time to hear him say,_

"_Maracelle's been kidnapped,"_


End file.
